Suncoast Society
Come in From the Cold
Although it broke his heart to leave, Douglas never thought he’d see Connor again. Douglas truly believed becoming a priest was the only way to save both their souls. But when a beloved friend from college arrives at his rectory, he can’t turn his back on her. Now he’s newly widowed, and the father of a newborn.
Connor’s heart has never healed from losing Douglas. Despite twenty-five years passing, Connor hopes the old promise he extracted—show up, and he’d never turn his back on him—might one day come to pass. Meanwhile, he’ll raise his daughter and steal what little bits of personal time he can to help ease his lonely existence.
Yet fate is cruelly kind. Connor’s boy has returned…except he became the one thing Connor cannot ever accept. The Church created bottomless wounds in Connor’s soul that have never healed. Is Douglas strong enough to withstand Connor’s righteous wrath, or will both men’s hearts remain forever frozen?
Genres: Alternative (M/M, Gay), BDSM, Contemporary
Length: 94,032
Come in From the Cold
Suncoast Society
Tymber Dalton

Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
Come in From the Cold
Copyright © 2018 by Tymber Dalton
ISBN: 978-1-64243-325-8
First Publication: July 2018
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2018 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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DEDICATION
This one’s for Sir. He knows why.
Also, thanks to my bestie, Trish, to Jilly, and to Sadie Haller, for letting me know if the “filthy quotient” was up to snuff.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tymber Dalton is the wild-child alter-ego of author Lesli Richardson. She lives in the Tampa Bay region of Florida with her husband (aka “The World’s Best Husband™”) and too many pets. Active in the BDSM lifestyle, the two-time EPIC award winner and part-time Viking shield-maiden loves to shoot skeet and play D&D with her friends. She’s also the bestselling author of over one hundred and forty books and counting, including The Reluctant Dom, The Denim Dom, Cardinal’s Rule, the Suncoast Society series, the Love Slave for Two series, the Triple Trouble series, the Coffeeshop Coven series, the Good Will Ghost Hunting series, the Drunk Monkeys series, and many more.
She loves to hear from readers! Please feel free to drop by her website and sign up for her newsletter to keep abreast of the latest news, snarkage, and releases. You can also find all of her Siren-BookStrand releases under all four of her pen names on her author page on the BookStrand site.
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AUTHOR’S NOTE
Some of the characters in this book appear in or are featured in previous books in the Suncoast Society series.
Doyle is first featured in Time Out of Mind. Niall, Aden, and Etsu are first featured in Empty-Handed Heart.
And sorry, but Ryan Ausar refuses to stay in his own series no matter how hard I beg him to. (Good Will Ghost Hunting, Triple Trouble)
While most of the books in the Suncoast Society series are standalone works which may be read independently of each other, the recommended reading order to avoid spoilers and to not miss any backstory information is as follows:
1. Safe Harbor
2. Domme by Default
3. Cardinal’s Rule
4. The Reluctant Dom
5. The Denim Dom
6. Pinch Me
7. Broken Toy
8. A Clean Sweep
9. A Roll of the Dice
10. His Canvas
11. A Lovely Shade of Ouch
12. Crafty Bastards
13. A Merry Little Kinkmas
14. Sapiosexual
16. Things Made Right
17. Click
18. Spank or Treat
19. A Turn of the Screwed
20. Chains
21. Kinko de Mayo
22. Broken Arrow
23. Out of the Spotlight
24. Friends Like These
25. Vicious Carousel
26. Hot Sauce
27. Open Doors
28. One Ring
29. Vulnerable
30. The Strength of the Pack
31. Initiative
32. Impact
33. Liability
34. Switchy
35. Rhymes With Orange
36. Beware Falling Ice
37. Beware Falling Rocks
38. Dangerous Curves Ahead
39. Two Against Nature
40. Home at Last
41. A Kinkmas Carol
42. Ask DNA
43. Time Out of Mind
44. Happy Valenkink’s Day
45. Splendid Isolation
46. Similar to Rain
47. Happy Spank Patrick’s Day
48. Fire in the Hole
49. Pretzel Logic
50. This Moody Bastard
51. Walk Between the Raindrops
52. Rub Me Raw
53. Any World That I’m Welcome To
54. Heartache Spoken Here
55. Roll With the Punches
56. See You Sometime
57. Borderline
58. A Case of You
59. Reconsider Me
60. Never Too Late for Love
61. Blues Beach
62. Happy Spanksgiving
63. Our Gravity
64. Friends in Common
65. Almost Gothic
66. Empty-Handed Heart
67. Steady Rain
68. Indifference of Heaven
69. Like the Seasons
70. I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead
71. Through With Love
72. Judgment of the Moon and Stars
73. For the Roses
74. A Spanktacular Fourth
75. Blue Motel Room
76. A Crafty Ever After
77. Come in From the Cold
TABLE OF CONTENTS
COME IN FROM THE COLD
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapte
r Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
PLAYLIST
AFTERWORD
COME IN FROM THE COLD
Suncoast Society
Tymber Dalton
Copyright © 2018
Chapter One
“Anytime, day or night, promise me. If you ever need me, you’ll call or show up on my doorstep. I will never turn you away. I don’t care if it’s been a week or a decade. Promise me!”
“I promise.”
“I love you, Douglas. I always will.”
“I will always love you, too. I will always be yours, Sir.”
The words Douglas had pledged so long ago, and had meant every bit as seriously as the two sets of vows he’d taken since.
Vows that, in retrospect, he realized were vain attempts to hide from a truth that had always unavoidably lain in front of him.
The choked and gutted sound of Connor’s voice would never fade from his memory, even as they’d both known it’d likely be the last time they saw each other.
Ever.
Not even the better part of twenty-five years could drive it out of his heart and soul. A multi-flavored guilt he’d carry to his grave, first for what they’d done, and later—and for much longer—for the pain he’d caused both of them by stupidly thinking he could run from who he truly was.
By wrongly thinking he was saving Connor’s soul by leaving.
He’d only succeeded in damning his own in the process.
He stared at the grille in front of him, not knowing the priest on the other side and thinking in some ways—many ways—that was probably for the best.
“It’s pretty telling that in my entire life I’ve only truly loved three people, and I’m not on that list.”
“Is this your first confession, my son?” the elderly priest asked.
Only then did Douglas realize he’d said it out loud when he hadn’t meant to.
With his right hand, around which he’d wrapped his amethyst rosary, he made the sign of the cross before closing his eyes. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been…over fourteen months since my last confession.”
Jesus, had it really been that long?
Zee was only three weeks old, so…yeah. It had been.
It felt a shit-ton longer.
Apparently he fell quiet for a while, because the priest spoke again. “Yes, my son? What do you wish to confess?”
On his left shoulder, where he had Zee resting on a burp rag, she fussed a little.
“I’m sorry,” Douglas said before the priest could speak again. “I didn’t have anyone to watch her, and I couldn’t leave her sitting out there alone.”
“It’s all right, my son. I’m sure God doesn’t mind. I know I don’t. Where do you wish to begin?”
Douglas thought back to his years spent sitting on the other side of the grille, and the fact that there’d been no one else waiting out in the sanctuary because he’d let the four people who’d arrived after him go ahead of him.
“How long you got?”
* * * *
The tears in Mackie’s eyes back then as they’d said their good-byes, a haunting echo as Douglas had told her he hadn’t changed his mind and was still entering the seminary, would still become a priest.
“I’ll always love you,” he’d said. “But I’m sorry, I can’t be who you need me to be. I’ve never lied to you about that.”
“I know.”
“I will always be your friend. Promise me, if you ever need me, you’ll come to me. Day or night, anytime. Even years from now. My door will always be open to you. I will never turn you away. Promise me.”
“I will, Doug. I promise.”
How he’d kissed her, the only time they’d ever kissed like that, and what he’d thought would be the last ever such kiss he’d give or receive in his life.
Hating himself for once again causing someone pain, and knowing the only penance there truly was lay in the lonely path he’d chosen.
And then, eighteen years after he’d last laid eyes on her, answering a late-night knock on his rectory door to find her standing there, sobbing, her body bruised and bloodied.
Pregnant.
He resigned from his position the next day, they were married, and he started a torturously long process to officially withdraw from the priesthood.
Because he was only a man and he wasn’t strong enough to turn his back and walk away from her or what he felt for her a second time.
Less than a month later, she lost the baby.
Two months after that she was pregnant again—with Zee.
And now…
They’d left the incense-scented sanctuary and moved to the priest’s office to talk. It was Friday afternoon and his schedule was free with morning mass and confession over.
Father Rowling looked to be in his late sixties and wore glasses, a long-sleeved black shirt with a white clerical collar and his sleeves rolled almost up to his elbows, jeans, and blue-and-grey Asics sneakers. Broad-shouldered, he stood about two inches taller than Douglas’ five-eleven, beefy, like he was used to doing hard work around the old church grounds on a regular basis.
Douglas stared down into Zee’s angelic face. “Does it fall under pride, thinking you can single-handedly save someone in a meaningful way and make a difference in the world?”
“Under the circumstances, you could apply to return, could you not?”
“No.” Douglas sadly laughed. “I’m a father, Father. She’s mine. I’ll never give up my daughter. Not even for the Church.”
“Ah, I’m sorry. I misunderstood. I thought you said she wasn’t yours.”
“She lost his baby a couple of weeks after we were married.” He adjusted the blanket around Zee. “She’s mine. Mackie was faithful to me. We loved each other.”
“But you were prepared to claim her baby as yours when she showed up that night?”
“Absolutely.” He looked across the desk at the elderly priest. “I’d never stopped loving her.” The priest didn’t need to know the full truth. Some stuff he could hold back, some of Mackie’s secrets.
He didn’t want the man thinking any less of her.
Or feeling more pity for Douglas than he could already tell the priest did.
Besides, he’d promised Mackie he’d never tell anyone.
“What are your plans now?” Father Rowling asked.
“A friend of mine passed me a job lead in Sarasota, and after a couple of phone and Skype interviews, they hired me. I start next week. Soon as I can get down there.”
“In Florida?”
“I know. Long way from Milwaukee.”
“Forgive me, son, but I’m confused how you ended up here.”
“I stopped for gas and saw your church sign. Everything we own is packed in a U-haul trailer on the back of my SUV and sitting out in your parking lot right now.”
Father Rowling slowly nodded. “Ah. I was wondering what brought you to Murfreesboro.” The priest settled back in his chair. “And this friend of yours who passe
d you the job lead is the same one you hope to perhaps…reconnect with?”
“No.” He’d left out the more…intimate details about exactly what he’d been to Connor besides lovers.
And he didn’t tell the priest—had never even told Mackie—the things Connor had tearfully confessed to him so long ago.
Douglas also didn’t reveal to the priest the actions he’d taken once he’d entered the priesthood to make things as right as he could for Connor, even though Connor might never know that.
“I met Doyle through a mutual professor when I returned to college for my doctorate,” Douglas explained. “We’d interacted over Facebook and became friends. Sorry, I’m exhausted, and not at my best right now.”
Douglas ran a hand through his brown hair, which was longer and shaggier than he usually kept it. He hadn’t had time for a haircut. Ditto the three weeks’ worth of scruff on his face since he’d stopped shaving. Hadn’t shaved since the day before Zee was born.
Zee made a noise in her sleep and Father Rowling smiled. “She’s beautiful. How old is she?”
“Three weeks today.” He struggled to blink back his tears and finally gave up. He wouldn’t be the first person the priest saw cry, that was for damn sure.
“She’s so tiny.”
“I know. She was born small, only four and a half pounds. Babies in Mackie’s family run small. But she was full-term and healthy. Our perfect little angel.”
Father Rowling remained quiet for a moment, looking as if he were weighing something in his mind. “May I ask you a personal question, son?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“Has she been baptized yet?”
Douglas shook his head. “With everything that happened, I…” He shrugged. “I didn’t even bother asking at my old parish, or any nearby parishes. I didn’t want to put them on the spot. I knew there were priests in the diocese who wouldn’t say no, but if the bishop heard about them doing it, they’d catch a ration of shit from him over it.”
Sometimes it surprised people to learn yeah, priests sometimes swore. The younger ones like him, anyway. Or the older ones beyond giving a shit. Not in front of parishioners, of course.